


Batman Has Priorities

by Townycod13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first night he saw Stiles at all in a different light was when the boy was in the middle of yet another painfully obvious lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batman Has Priorities

The first night he saw Stiles at all in a different light was when the boy was in the middle of yet another painfully obvious lie. At the time he couldn’t tell whether just he couldn’t _believe_ teenager priorities (because the more experience he got with Scott and his little friends the more he couldn’t comprehend _how_ they were even still alive with the sort priorities they maintained) or whether he was frustrated that it was even an issue.

Later he realized he felt bad for making the kid disappoint his dad, because he really seemed to hate doing that, and surprised that, _for once_ he hadn’t actually had to explain the actual priorities of the situation.

Finding the alpha was _infinitely_ more important than being first string, something he’d never managed to get through Scott’s thick head until after the alpha business was done with.

He still doesn’t know what exactly about that moment struck him or what he thought of Stiles, he knew it was vaguely along the lines of ‘the most annoying presence known to man’ and ‘occasionally useful’, but further than that was a mystery that he didn’t even _care_ to try to decipher.

Really the only clear emotion was that he’d felt directly after was the fear that he may have gotten an innocent kid killed by literally sending him in to meet his apparently homicidal uncle, the crushing feeling that his uncle had  killed his sister, and the hope, confusion, fear, strive for redemption that followed.

He’d thought, after listening to his uncle he’d thought maybe this could make it all better somehow. That his only family left, his only family after he himself had gotten the rest of his family _killed_ was asking for _help_.

He’d thought maybe by getting vengeance he could redeem his mistakes. He’d thought that maybe Peter was right and this was the only thing left to do and he really didn’t have anything to lose, did he?

He’ll admit, to himself at least, that Scott’s voice hitched with betrayal had made him hesitate. That Peter doing whatever the fuck he did with his nails to Scott scared him a little because it was yet another thing that Peter knew about werewolves that Derek never really had the chance to properly learn.

He’ll admit that he questioned whether or not he should be following his uncle in that moment because much as Scott’s priorities were a little whacked, Derek knew that Scott had a good heart.

And if the only good heart was saying killing people is wrong, no matter the cause, it made Derek wonder just a bit if he should be listening to that cry in his own pathetic excuse for a heart.

The events that followed are as lamentful as most of the decisions he makes.

He decides to trust his uncle and tries to obey the orders given.

To this day Scott will never know how grateful Derek is for the interferience… not that Derek was entirely positive he was capable of following orders.

He needed to kill Jackson. That was his order. It helped a little bit that Jackson was the _exact_ type of person he hated, in some ways because of his idiocy and in some ways because there was something in Jackson similar to Derek.

Derek really didn’t want to admit that he was an idiot too.

Jackson was still a kid though, just a painfully _stupid_ kid who had _no_ idea what he was getting himself into. Jackson was definitely a trouble-maker, certainly and arrogant little snot that Derek wouldn’t miss if he never saw again _but_ …

…none of that made Derek feel right about the decision to kill him. 

It still took seeing Scott shot and probably dying before he could make a right decision though. A wrong right decision, but one he didn’t regret as much as trying to kill children. 

Jumping into a bullet storm and straight into the torturous arms of _Kate_ fucking _Argent_ just to save some kid he barely even _liked_ wasn’t high on his priorities and he felt stupid doing it but it was better.

Scott was worth saving. Jackson wasn’t worth killing.

Derek didn’t really know how he was ever going to manage the whole vengeance thing his uncle was obsessed with if he couldn’t kill some kids.

Hell, he was fairly sure he couldn’t even kill Kate Argent, evil bitch she might be, he was never really hot on the whole murder thing. One of the reasons he always blamed himself the most for causing his families death.

So the first time he saw something a little different than a seriously annoying, clever, and frustrating kid he didn’t have more than a moment to process it and even less time to think on it later.

It wasn’t until much later that he realized the change that occurred in that moment was now Stiles was someone he could rely on for a mission of some sort. It wasn’t trust, it was just the knowledge that Stiles might, sort of, have his back sometimes. A sort of vague solidarity.

\--

The second time a situation forced him to look at the hyperactive _brat_ differently was later. After the death of Kate Argent, after his uncles death, after he’d _thought_ that he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes.

While he was trying to find a new way to live. While he was more confused than ever but trying desperately to figure out how he was supposed to do things. While he was trying and _failing_ to do what alphas are _supposed_ to do.

He wasn’t sure when _exactly_ it happened, like he was with the first time, somewhere between being terrified for Stiles life, being terrified for his own life, being terrified for Erica’s, not knowing what to do, what the lizard-freak is, trying to get information, and regretting cornering Stiles to begin with if this is the result.

It might have been watching Stiles struggle with his own significantly lower stamina to keep them afloat for hours. Derek’s a little scared that it was before that though, when he remembered the gory corpses that this thing seemed to make out of humans and panicked to get Stiles out of there, turning is head for a second too long.

Annoying as Stiles might be, there was no way he was going to let this kid be brutally murdered _because of him_.

But if Derek _really_ had to bet it was the moment that Stiles _glared_ at him. Stiles usually glares at him, but not like how he did there, not like Derek had just _personally_ insulted him.

It wasn’t really surprising when Stiles dumped his ass in the water. Part of it was of course, obviously, to call Scott, but he also did it to prove a point.

Derek wasn’t even sure what the point was, just that if he _really_ wanted to live much longer it wasn’t advisable to get cynically bitchy with Stiles when Stiles called the shots on who lives.

It hit him in those moments not that he trusted Stiles, he still didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t, but that he really didn’t want Stiles dead. Watching Stiles lose strength was distressful. Not quite as distressful as every single gallon of water he had to spit out because the poor kid could barely keep afloat, but distressful.

It was the mild horror that they were both going to die. It was the horror of watching a _kid_ work himself until he’d likely die of fucking exhaustion.

Something in the way he really couldn’t handle much more of holding them both above water.

He knew he didn’t want Stiles dead. He already knew that, for vague reasons really, mostly the same reasons he didn’t want to kill Jackson.

He didn’t really like death.

But it was more defined this time. Not even a desire to protect so much as a desire to never have to watch die.

It was also that evening that he really realized that there was a little more to Stiles than meets the eye.

It could have been how quickly Stiles had caught on to the vague concept he was describing, but he already knew the brat was clever, but it was really more how he said ‘abomination’, how he looked when he said it.

Perhaps he’d been shoving Stiles together with Scott mentally, thinking them both as stupid sentimental _children_. Which they were, they really were.

But this was more… serious.

It wasn’t bitter or angry, like how Derek might have said it.

It was clear, serious, _factual_ , like Stiles understood the concept really well without it having to be explained.

It was just such a serious look on Stiles’ normally _stupid_ face.

It struck him. It stuck with him.

That was the moment when it came to him that Stiles _had_ a certain something. He didn’t understand what, maybe it was intelligence, maybe it was determination, but Stiles wasn’t quite... whatever he thought Stiles was…

He didn’t really have much time to ponder it this time either, nor did he have time to care, everything was falling apart, there was a freakin’ _Kanima_ (which for him was like learning the goddamn boogieman was real) and he had to kill a relatively innocent high school student.

The idea didn’t _appeal_ to him but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t _see_ another choice. It was that, or let more innocent people die.

One life verses many. He knew it wasn’t a decision he’d _actually_ hesitate on.

It just…

Maybe he was hoping Scott’s magic optimism would work in saving the day. Maybe he wanted to believe that there _was_ another solution.

But he couldn’t have more blood on his hands, and one way or another he knew this all, _all of it_ , traced back to him.

So he put on his game face, his _alpha_ face, and attempted to get to the bottom of the problem.

He needed solutions. Not dreams.

But god was it hard to play big bad fucking wolf with Scott seeing through him at every turn. With Scott saying things that made it _really_ hard to just stick to a goddamn decision. Because Scott’s smarter than most give him credit for and always so determined to _help_ people.

Derek knew he had to be the one to make the bad decisions. The hard ones. The ones that _suck_.

It was probably a little bit to do with almost watching Stiles die. Not because it was Stiles, but because it would be his fault, and all of the deaths were his fault.

_Seeing_ some defenseless human almost die because of his mistakes made him nauseous.

It made him determined to do _everything in his power_ to stop it because Gerard was playing a game and he didn’t want to be caught unaware. Because he just…

…he just wished there was a miracle solution and he hated himself for wishing it.

\--

Honestly there was no distinctive point when he next adjusted his opinion of Stiles. Between the confusion of running a pack that he was ill equipped to take care of, the fear of both Gerard and the Kanima, the guilt of being the _cause_ of all this, his uncle being revived…

To be honest he usually barely noticed Stiles when the kid was near. If the brat was making some freaky magical ward for supernatural critters, Derek was preoccupied with both Scott and Boyd’s potential demise. If he was making some plan or some comment, or driving Scott to Deaton’s after that specific incident, Derek really had no time to even care past the confusion and fear.

He didn’t even notice that the Stilinski’s were by far the closest to uncovering the whole mystery.

Really it wasn’t until Stiles was _literally_ dropped on top of him that the kid was on his mind at all again.

Somewhere between the horror of what was happening and the existential fit that consisted of ‘of fucking course this happened, what the fuck else could I expect from _my_ pathetic fucking life?’ that mostly happened in his head, but he’s sure some of the dry morbid humor escaped, Stiles was lying next him and could die soon.

It sort of reminded him of the pool, in how it made him desperate to save the people that were _still alive_ in the station, to _stop_ the Kanima, to kick Matt’s _stupid petty_ ass. At the same time it was nothing like the pool.

Here he was, about to die most likely, lying next to a brat he can hardly tolerate, trying to brainstorm ways of escape. For once there wasn’t a single dry snark at the other, one or two for Matt, a half one for Jackson, but nothing at each other.

For once it was almost like they were on the same team.

Derek sort of wondered when he began to feel that way.

When he heard the Argent’s arrive he wished he could be grateful, that this would be like a rescue, but he knew better. Argent’s had a way of wracking up a body count.

First chance he got he tried to get Scott to bring Stiles to safety. Hopefully it would make both of them safe. Hopefully at least those _stupid_ optimistic brats would live.

Despite it all he ended up hearing Stiles heart beat. He didn’t know why he ended up focusing on it, mainly he was looking for Matt’s, but he heard Stiles.

And Stiles sounded like his heart was going to _break_.

He found Stiles’ father knocked out and Mrs. McCall being threatened. He didn’t even bother to pay mind to the Stiles in the corner, he’d found Matt and that’s all that matters.

It was a pattern for him, to not really think about stuff until later, there was always a good reason. Here the Kanima came and he got knocked out, and then he learned of Scott’s betrayal, and really? It just came out to being a really, _really_ bad night.

But later he did end up wondering why he hyper focused on Stiles heartbeat. Why he heard it without trying to, it just sort of pounded in his ears above everything else.

He figured he didn’t know what or when anything had changed, but he knew that on that evening he had been genuinely scared for Stiles, not just the stupid kid, not just the defenseless human, but the sarcastic asshole lying next to him that he _couldn’t_ protect.

It was somewhere in that musty area that he wanted to protect Stiles, not just not see him dead.

It was minor compared to everything else though, and if he’s totally honest he didn’t really care about the change.

He was a _failure_ , he knew, and he just kept _fucking up_ and people kept _dying_ and he had no idea what to _do_ …! And he knew Gerard was winning and he couldn’t protect anyone and _god_ would his uncle ever _shut up_?

\--

If it was fuzzy before, it was fuzzier before the most recent.

Betrayal, shock, anger, desperation, he barely even _registered_ that Stiles had been kidnapped. His list of priorities didn’t really include the kid. Not by a long shot.

He was losing. He had pretty much lost.

Everything was whacked and nothing could be done and hell, knowing Stiles, he probably wasn’t even _actually_ missing/kidnapped whatever.

He was relying on info from _Peter_ for fucks sake. There wasn’t any bright side to the situation.

It was probably because he knew that something awful had most likely also happened to Boyd and Erica. There was no way the path they were on would lead to them to anything but misery and he didn’t have the slightest fucking clue how to convince them off of it.

Stiles was just another teenager that would probably die _because of him_.

He didn’t even let himself be grateful when he heard Stiles had been found, fantastic, Stiles wasn’t going to die by Argent hands, he was just going to die via giant fucking alpha version Kanima that they had _no way_ of stopping or killing.

He really didn’t believe Peter.

He _really_ didn’t believe Peter.

So in the warehouse when everything went to shit. There was no getting up. Everything was fucked and even if Scott, _motherfucking Scott McCall_ , had managed to one-up _Gerard Argent_ they were still all going to die.

He didn’t know whether to be hurt that Scott hadn’t trusted him (because did he even have the right to be, considering?), angry that Scott of all people was the only one to read Gerard’s plan, or despairing because there was no escape really. They still had no weapon against the Kanima.

Maybe it was _because_ it was Scott that Gerard was outsmarted. The horrid old bastard probably thought Scott was as dumb as he looks.

Derek thought he’d realized that Scott wasn’t awhile ago but apparently he could still be surprised.

He was just about to give up or do _one last hoorah_ before he heard it. That horribly familiar engine.

Oddly, hearing it made him realize he was currently wearing the shirt that he had inadvertently stolen from the driver. He’d really never had the time or care to return it between everything that happened.

He had even remembered it was Stiles’ shirt when he put it on, he’d just kinda wanted to wear something given that nudity usually attracts unwanted attention and is not so much his hobby.

Contrary to popular believe he wasn’t a freakin’ animal and he did appreciate things like _clothes_.

Point being he heard the engine before it happened and then out of no where Stiles ran over the Kanima.

Stiles ran over the freakin’ Kanima.

What the hell.

Seriously?

His brain went blank for just a moment, registering vaguely that Stiles had brought _Lydia_ and for a moment it was like there was something akin to hope.

But mostly there was the shock that Stiles ran over the Kanima.

Not getting over _that_ one anytime soon.

Everything else that happens was like a blur and once more, like always, there were a lot more important priorities than Stiles Stilinski and his band of _stupidity_.

He didn’t even pay attention to Stiles crying because most everyone was crying and hell, even he felt a little bit like crying, everything sucked. But in reflection he’d remember that Stiles teared up more _after_ their little Christmas miracle came true.

And it didn’t _smell_ or _feel_ like happy tears.

It occurred to him briefly that while he might have _a lot_ of opinions on Lydia and Jackson, starting with them both being kind of shallow and heartless people (although he did kind of think Lydia had one and Jackson sort of just _proved_ he had a heart) Stiles was in love with Lydia.

He’d known it because who lived in Beacon Hills and _didn’t_ know about the planet sized crush Stiles had on Lydia but it made him remember the first time he saw Stiles differently, it actually what really started him reflecting on those moments and organizing them in his thoughts.

It reminded him that Stiles had his _priorities straight_ in some _weird way_ and unlike McCall, who Derek was pretty sure would never give the girl up to anyone ever, who would rather be first string than not get himself and his friends _killed_ , Stiles disappointed his dad because saving lives was more important.

Erica was right. Stiles did make a good Batman. He was no generic superhero with all the _positive emotions_ and _inspirational speeches_. He wasn’t the hero that you looked at and just thought ‘oh how brave and clean cut!’.

He was the anti-hero. He was the guy who sniped, held grudges, had issues. He was the hero that saved the day, saved the people when he didn’t want to. When in some ways, he lost in order to do so.

He lost the love for the lives.

It just sort of struck Derek, when he did have a moment or two to really think about it, how ridiculous it was.

Stiles played detective and made mistakes and was just absolutely ridiculous in every way.

And he was definitely a child. Derek didn’t care that he wasn’t really _that_ much older than the teenagers he ended up hanging around, he couldn’t _look_ at _any_ of them without feeling like they were kids.

Although if he were totally honest he still felt like a kid in a lot of ways.

Regardless it brought a moment of thought, thought of the first time Stiles changed his opinion just by one obvious lie.

A thought for the snipes.

The adrenaline.

The fear.

The desperation for survival and all the _ridiculous_ situations they kept landing in.

Stiles Stilinski changed in his eyes and he didn’t even have the time to ponder how much or why because the is _no rest for the wicked_ and he knew he was wicked.

But he knew that the moment, _the second_ Stiles shitty jeep had slammed into the Kani— _Jackson_ , he’d had one _very_ distinctive, instinctual, _almost inspiring_ thought.

_Get up_.

It was like the world had stopped and all that mattered was that moment.

_Get up_.

And he got up.

He got up and he attempted to face whatever _piece of shit_ new or old problem that he had to deal with that he had probably _brought onto himself_ , because that was kind of a trend with his problems, and attempted to crawl out of the miserable pit that was his pathetically stupid life.

And Stiles? He didn’t know about Stiles. He was a bit clearer on the whole Scott issue, he wasn’t really sure what to feel about Allison, he had a _brand spanking new_ perspective on Jackson and Lydia, he still had _no fucking clue_ what to do about his betas, and he didn’t think he’d ever trust Peter. _Ever_.

But Stiles was just Batman, more likely than not making Scott Superman (and oh my god, he was _not_ going to start casting the group of teenaged misfits that he had the displeasure of knowing as goddamn comic book characters) and by being Batman Stiles was just…

…just Stiles.

He was more than what Derek thought he was. He was…

Derek doesn’t really know what the latest interaction with Stiles had left him with. It felt like another inch, like every other time, just an inch of change, that he probably wouldn’t be able to _grasp_ the connotations of until there was _yet another_ change but it didn’t matter.

Because like always, he had more important things to worry about.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on random inspiration awhile ago XD;;; I'm really not sure how good it is ;A; not edited.


End file.
